


Wine

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 10:45:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: The wine on Itey’s breath was heavy and sweet, his lips just a little redder than usual. Snitch turned away. He didn’t need to get stuck staring at Itey, especially when he was like this.





	Wine

The wine on Itey’s breath was heavy and sweet, his lips just a little redder than usual. Snitch turned away. He didn’t need to get stuck staring at Itey, especially when he was like this.

“You shouldn’t dr—,” Snitch closed his mouth, and clamped his eyes shut. He needed to start that sentence again. “Wine ain’t good for your body, and it ain’t good for you soul,” he said.

Itey sighed. “I had one cup,” he answered, as if Snitch hadn’t seen him do it.

Snitch had known to stay in bed when Swifty had shown up with a bottle of stolen wine, but Itey wasn’t like him. Itey was, in fact, dedicated to reminding Snitch that he wasn’t like him. They’d fought about it a few days earlier. Snitch had just been trying to explain to Itey that he should stay away from liars and thieves like Jack and Swifty, that Itey’s English wasn’t so good, so sometimes he didn’t understand the world the way Snitch did, and then out of nowhere Itey had been angry. He hadn’t shouted, but he’d scowled plenty, and made it very clear that he would be giving in to whatever sins and horrible impulses crossed his mind, and there wasn’t a thing Snitch could do about it.

The problem was, Snitch had taken Itey’s words to heart. Itey had been right in saying that Snitch didn’t own him, even if some of his choices had been wrong; Snitch had never meant to act like he owned anybody. It had taken all of Snitch’s resolve to bite his tongue while Itey drank with the other boys, but he’d done it.

“Drink a cup of water, so you don’t get a headache,” Snitch said. “If you want to,” he added hastily.

Itey’s eyes were soft. “It isn’t… I’m not…” he looked up at the ceiling, the way he did when he was trying to find a word that he didn’t know. After a moment, he tapped his forehead, then sort of spun his head around, in an imitation of dizzy drunkeness. “I’m not,” he repeated.

“Yeah you are,” Snitch insisted. He knew very well that even a few drops of alcohol could change a person entirely.

Itey looked down at his hands for a minute or two, then shrugged. “I’ll go to sleep now,” he said.

Snitch didn’t answer, but he scooted over, so that Itey would have enough room in the bed. They lay down the way they always did, front to back, with Itey’s toes somewhere near Snitch’s ears.

Then Itey patted Snitch’s ankle. It wasn’t something that he usually did. Usually he avoided Snitch’s feet as much as was possible for someone who often woke up cradling them. “Goodnight Snitch,” he said, before turning over on his side.

Snitch knew that he was supposed to be mad at Itey for drinking, but he repeated Itey’s little gesture, and repeated his goodnight. He tried to hang onto his worry, but in all truth, things didn’t seem so bad.


End file.
